The Last Time
by GoldenFlowers
Summary: He couldn't stop himself, the Time Lord Victorious burned in his mind. He needed her. That was just fine with her. But his mind turned against itself and he couldn't see things the way they were until she saved him again. Last installment following "In the Library" and "It Can't Hurt". Can be read separately. Warning: It gets dark before it gets better. Rated M for mature content.


**Hey guys! Don't hate me too much for this one. I was just thinking about how the messed-up-ness of the Time Lord Victorious doesn't seem to get addressed too much and this is where my brain went. Make of that what you will. **

**Just to be clear, this is not a dub-con piece. Everyone is fully consenting, as I think I say in the story. It's just that the headspace that he gets into afterwards is kind of dark and twisted, due to the emotional havoc and his own problems. OK? Ok.**

"No one should have that much power."

The words rang in his head. Loud. Insistent. Taunting.

"Tough."

This was wrong. So wrong.

"You should have left us."

How could he have? But he'd done it so many times. Why couldn't he have just left?

"Adelaide, I've done this sort of this before, in small ways, saved some little people, but never someone as important as you. Ooohhhhh, I'm good!"

Damn.

"Little people! What, like Mia and Yuri? Who decides they're so unimportant? You?"

_Damn, damn, damn._

"For a long time now I thought I was just a survivor. But I'm not. I'm the winner. That's who I am. The Time Lord Victorious."

_Time Lord Victorious._ He slammed a fist down onto the console. Wasn't he? Wasn't that who he was and what he did? He saved people, didn't he?

"And there's no one to stop you."

Of course not. Who could there be? He was the last. He was the strongest.

The cleverest, certainly.

"No."

He flinched.

"This is wrong, Doctor. I don't care who you are, the Time Lord Victorious is wrong."

"That's for me to decide."

And it was. Of course it was. It always had been. He did as he pleased and dragged people along with him. It worked out in the end, didn't it? And didn't that make it right?

"Is there nothing you can't do?"

Ha.

"Not anymore."

But she shot herself. She shot herself to save her legacy and the legacy of the human race. She'd done what he should have, hadn't she. But what if he was right? There was nothing to say he was wrong. But there was no going back now, no saving her again. She was dead.

And that Ood.

"I've gone too far... is this it? My death? Is it time?"

Of course not. No knocking. And had he really gone too far?

"No."

He stared at the controls mutely. His mind both racing and blank at the same time. The Time Lord Victorious. And he was. But he felt wrong and broken. Flooded with power, yet helpless to control it.

_Damn it all._

A screen blinked in the corner of his vision. He turned; saw what it held, smiled thinly. Of course. And why not? Surely if he could do anything, he could do that. Even should. Certainly would.

Yes.

He felt a certain reckless pride overtake him as he flipped the controls and pulled the levers, and reveled in the feeling as it swept over him. And still part of him broke. Quietly. Almost unseen. He flinched, but let the pride fill him instead, trying to ignore the deadness inside.

–––

"I like tents. Tents are cool."

River shook her head as the Doctor spun awkwardly inside the walls of her current home. She had a large tent set up, a sturdy, long term sort of thing, made of canvas and shaped more like a small house than a tent. It was a bit cramped, and sounds carried easily both inside and out, but it was much better than many places she'd slept. She had her sleeping mat behind a partition, her small foldable desk and chair set up in one corner, her cooking supplies in the other. The one vanity piece she had allowed herself was a tall, stand-alone mirror. It had seemed daft to bring it along, but now that she was set up here for the season, she was glad she'd brought it.

Especially tonight.

The Doctor had shown up at her door with that snug, green evening dress he liked so much to see her wear. This was accompanied by himself in a suit and top hat, and another mildly insane invitation to some party they weren't invited to in the first place. But she couldn't say no. Parties with him were one of the few ways they got to spend any time together it seemed. If they weren't caught up in some mad adventure, they were at a mad party. Or sometimes both at the same time.

"Well, I've got to be off then. Planets to save, people to see, your parents to take care of. If I'm not back when they wake up it's all 'Where were you last night' and 'What did you get up to' and 'Where's River?'"

He made a face, then spun around to snap his fingers and point at her with a smug smile.

"Catch you later, babe."

She grinned back, biting back a retort that might crush his current high spirits. He was so aggravatingly dear when he was like this. But it was this version she saw the most. It had been almost a year since Egypt. She wondered absently what that version was doing. She wasn't really sure where and when he was when he'd come. It didn't matter. She blew a kiss at the Doctor as he turned towards the door, winking at him.

He sauntered out of the tent, and she heard the familiar sounds of the TARDIS taking off.

She sighed. She loved him, she really did. His endearing awkwardness and attempts at being suave. He was wonderfully fun, to be sure. And there was certainly that delicious tension between them sometimes. But he was slow to make any sort of move, and she knew that she had to encourage him rather than bulldoze him into doing what she wanted. So they kissed and held hands and danced, and, she smiled to herself, had some really amazing nights together. But she always worried in the back of her mind that she might be pushing him too far, or at least farther than he was really comfortable with. The sex was good, no doubt about that. She just worried that she asked too much of him sometimes.

And she was a little miffed that he hadn't made a move this evening. She'd done her best to entice him, but his mind had been bouncing around that head full of ideas and, aside from some coy glances and smug looks, he hadn't really reciprocated.

Next time.

She sighed, smiling to herself a little as she turned from the door of the tent. She glanced in the mirror. The dress _did_ look good. And the party _had_ been fun. She ran a hand through her hair and turned a little in the mirror. She hesitated, thinking that she heard the TARDIS leave, but then the sound rattled in from outside the tent, and she thought that the first sound much have been her senses deceiving her.

–––

The TARDIS had landed less than silently, as usual.

The Doctor opened the door and stepped out, cautious still about where and when he was. The TARDIS had landed behind some rough-hewn stone, left there long ago by whoever had colonized this forsaken place. Now, aside from these few large stones, nothing but scattered rubble and a few pillars could be seen. Whatever name the planet had had in the past was lost to most people, it went by a serial number now. The remains of a monumental building could be seen a ways off in the gloom. This was structure was likely what had drawn Professor Song, archaeologist, to this lonely place. Surely she had to keep herself busy, he guessed as he peered around the rocks. She probably wasn't off gallivanting with some version of himself all the time. He'd calmed down some, although the Time Lord Victorious still raged around in the back of his mind. He'd done his best to get a handle on things on the trip here, trying to focus on the controls, the screens, the sound of the engines... anything at all besides what he was really doing, besides the words that still echoed in his head. He could see the tent, tucked close against a crumbling wall, glowing with a dim light. He could just make out the murmur of voices inside, the slight movement of shapes inside. Who was with her? Did she travel with someone? He had no idea. He waited silently, eyes on the tent, as he debated leaving. A flicker to the right caught his eye, and he suddenly reached out and gripped the rock hard, holding himself back. The TARDIS. It glowed so softly that he could barely make it out. He'd been so preoccupied with the comparatively visible tent that he hadn't noticed it. Fear and anger washed over him. His eyes snapped back to the tent as the door flap opened. A figure in a top hat spun out awkwardly and walked over to the other TARDIS, his hands clasped up by his chest. When he reached the door, he snapped his fingers casually, and the door swung open. He didn't even glance in the Doctor's direction. He just stepped inside and the door closed behind him. Even in the state of mind that he was in, he found time to think, _A top hat? Really? Gods._ The TARDIS took off. He stepped out from behind the rock.

Damn it all.

The Time Lord Victorious took over. To hell with prophecies and knocking and damn top hats. His mind burned. And he ignored the dead feeling and the helplessness he felt, and started walking.

–––

River heard a noise at the door of the tent, startling her slightly. But there was only one person it could be. She turned with a smile.

"I thought I heard you lea..." the smile died on her lips.

No top hat, no tuxedo, no long hair falling over his eyes. Instead, a man in a brown pinstripe suit, hair all over the place, hands in his pockets, eyes dark.

"What are you doing? You know he was just here. Are you mad?"

He strode over to her, paying no attention. She caught the look in his eyes and felt a twinge of nervousness as his eyes bored into hers. Fear. Pain. Anger. Pride. They all flickered there.

"Doctor, what..."

One strong hand gripped her waist and the other tangled tightly in her hair as he pulled her roughly against him and crushed his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss. She cried out a little in surprise, and felt his hands grip her even harder. Her arms went automatically around him and held him tightly, trying to reassure him as he kissed her franticly. He felt unable to hold her close enough, to kiss her hard enough, feel her near enough. He heard her moan quietly as he slid his tongue over her lips and into her mouth. He pulled back a little, breathing hard against her.

"_Need you,_" he rasped, sounding almost desperate.

He felt her nodding, but it barely registered, and he found her mouth again as he free hand roved over her body. _How dare he?_ His hand slid up her back and around her shoulder. _Had he touched her? _He found the soft curve of her breast and squeezed. He tried to push the thoughts of someone else touching her, holding her, kissing her... out of his mind, but the rage held onto them and used them to fuel the fire, and rationality all but vanished. _Mine_. His searching fingers found the zipper of her dress and pulled it roughly down before grabbing the strap over her shoulder and jerking it off, listening to the sound of stitches snapping. _Fuck._ Of course she wasn't wearing anything underneath. She would. His fingers slid over her skin, and he thought he detected bit of smugness as she smiled against his mouth. He moved so that he could whisper hoarsely in her ear.

"If we weren't in this damn tent, I'd fuck you against the wall."

He grinned at her mock-shocked gasp, and pulled the other strap of her dress off. He let both his hands slide down to cup her breasts and leaned in close to her ear again.

"Looks like I'll have to settle for the ground."

He thought he heard her moan quietly and felt her press herself into his hands. Her hands flew up to his tie and pulled it off quickly. Thoughts flitted through her head as she undid the first few buttons of his shirt and slid her fingers across the exposed skin. _Had either of them seen the other?_ She felt sure that this version had. _What was he doing here? When was he? _She found his eyes with hers, searching. Blocked. His eyes were dark with what, anger? Lust? But beyond that, she saw nothing.

He pinched a nipple hard and she stopped asking questions and arched against him.

"Take off your damned dress," he growled.

He pulled back from her and slid out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head, forgetting about the buttons. He watched her quickly shimmy the dress off her hips and onto the floor, admiring her in the soft light from the oil lamp. Her curly hair, disheveled. Her skin tanned golden. He must have gotten lost staring at some point, because the next thing he felt was her hands undoing the button of his fly. She paused to reach down and stroke his length through the cloth, pressing gently. His eyes snapped shut and his hips jerked against her hand. Her hands were pushed aside and he quickly shed the rest of his clothes. She watched, almost warily. This seemed off. Wrong somehow. The way he moved, everything. Almost as though he had something to prove, something driving him. And the rest of him was completely shut off, except for a few sparks she caught in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking. He didn't give her time to consider it any further. Rough hands gripped her waist and pulled her to him. He kept her pressed tightly against him as he ran a hand up her neck to her jaw, forcing her head back and kissing the line of her neck. He nipped her shoulder hard, and she gasped in surprise.

He couldn't stop himself. He needed her so badly. Her skin, the taste of her on his lips, his hands in her hair, gripping her tightly. The soft curves of her body pressed against him. The smell of her in his nose. He'd meant for it to be just a kiss at first. Just one kiss. A few kisses. Just his arms around her, nothing more. But seeing _him_ there. _Mine._ He couldn't help it. And she fit against his body so perfectly, her lips soft under his, her arms around his neck. Her skin against his. Her dress in a heap on the floor. His clothes were scattered on the ground behind him. He drew back almost harshly.

"Come on."

He dragged her around the partition in the tent to where her sleeping mat was, not much more than a few blankets on the ground. He half-pulled, half-pushed her down with him and onto her back, locking her arms up above her head.

She would deal with the strangeness of the situation later, she decided. She was going to enjoy this. He'd never been this rough with her before, and it was exactly what she needed right now. She tried to express this to him, submitting easily to the way he positioned her, and showing him every way she could how aroused she was at this new attitude. The next version of him was never this bold, and the one after that... mmmm well, but she had only seen him once.

She looked up at his face and held back a soft moan. His eyes burned, his mouth hung open slightly. She just had to. She leaned up and caught his lower lip in her mouth, nipping and sucking. He groaned into her mouth. She could hear him breathing hard. Fast. He slid a hand up to her breast again and ran a thumb over her nipple a few times. She melted under his hands, but she could still feel the tension in his body, lending a rough edge to his touch as he held her locked in place with one hand. He shoved a knee between her legs and reached down to grab her leg and hook it up over his hip, pulling her tight against him and rocking into her. She angled her hips up towards him and had to bite down on a moan when she felt his hard length slide along her folds. He pushed against her almost mindlessly, his fingers digging into her skin and the hand on her wrists gripping her painfully tight.

"Sweetie, I..."

He let out a low groan, ignoring her. He let go of her leg and pulled her up a little by her arms before moving both hands to her hips.

"Turn over, turn over... _fuck,_" he gasped.

She quickly flipped over onto her stomach. He pulled her up a bit.

"On your hands and knees."

She suppressed the grin threatening at the corners of her mouth. She positioned herself as best she could for him, resting her weight on her elbows, head down and to the side, legs spread wide, hips cocked up. She felt him ease himself between her legs on his knees and place his hand on the curve of her hip. Felt him slide the other hand between her thighs and run a finger through her folds. He added another finger and run them over her clit a few times, teasing her. Then she felt him press both fingers against her entrance and he pushed them into her, achingly slowly. She moaned, clenching down on him. He pumped his fingers in and out of her a few times, feeling her muscles tighten around his digits. She almost whimpered when he removed them, but then he was positioning himself over her, his legs brushing against hers.

_Fuck._ He couldn't stop himself, not even if he tried. _Stop me... _She was so... perfect. Her back arched and her hips cocked up towards him just so, her legs spread for him. He could smell her arousal, the sweat on her skin. He reached down and slid the tips of his fingers into her again, stretching her, and took himself in his hand, lining himself up.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt him enter her, pushing just the tip of his cock inside and stroking her folds with is fingers so that her muscles tightened around him, before pushing himself all the way into her in one smooth, slow motion, his hips coming up tight against her buttocks. _Oh gods, he was so hard. _Her walls clenched almost painfully around his length. She heard him give a low moan under his breath. His hands found her hips and gripped her hard as he withdrew, pulling almost all the way out of her before sliding into her again. This time he moaned loudly, unable to help himself. He started to thrust, slowly at first, then picking up speed, his hips hitting against her with each push. She arched her back downwards, tilting her hips up as much as she could, loving every movement, every touch. He pulled back a little but kept thrusting shallowly, letting his hands rove over her body, tracing every bone, every muscle he could reach. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her up a little so that she rested on her hands. She kept her hips tilted up towards him as much as she could, but almost lost it when he lowered himself so that his chest rested on her back, one hand down on the ground to brace himself, the other still wrapped around her waist, keeping her body pressed tight against his. The hand on her waist slid up to cover her breast, stroking, pinching, caressing... then coming back to tighten around her waist again as he began to thrust hard, hips slamming against her, his breath coming in gasps.

He tried to slow himself down a little, switching jaggedly to long, deep thrusts, and reaching his hand down to slide between her legs. His long, rough fingers found her clit and she gasped when he started rubbing in small circles as he continued to slide in and out of her. She could feel the heat building quickly, spreading from her centre out to every part of her body. She seemed to teeter on the edge for a moment, mouth open, body tensed, then the waves crashed over her, pleasure flooding through her body as she came hard around him with a cry, his fingers stroking and his cock buried deep inside her. He bit back his own cry as her muscles clenched down on him.

"_River, gods... you're so fucking perfect,_" he groaned, punctuating each word with a hard thrust, "_So. Fucking. Perfect."_

The feeling of her coming around him almost pushed him over the edge himself, but he managed to hold himself back as he brought he down gently. But when she pushed her hips up against him tightened her walls around him, he couldn't stop. He pushed her down a little and wrapped his arm around her waist again, holding her tightly as he pounded into her. _So close, so close, fuck, fuck, fuck... fuck..._

He thrust hard, deep into her. His whole body tensed over hers and his hand reached up to clutch possessively at her breast and hold her tight to his body as he came with a low, harsh moan, his hips rocking against her with his last few thrusts, his breath coming in gasps. She tightened around him again, and she felt him shudder against her, skin slick with sweat.

Shock at what he had just done jolted through him. He panicked. Tension filled him, and he drew back too quickly, pulling out of her and moving away to the edge of her sleeping mat. She let her weight drop down onto the ground in relief, her muscles starting to ache. She stretched out, sighing softly, a smile just barely touching the corners of her mouth.

She heard him move and swiftly looked up, startled. He was already standing, gathering up his clothes. Her eyes caught his and she saw raw fear there, his eyes wide and staring unfocused. Next thing she knew he had pulled his trousers back on and had vanished out the door of the tent.

Well. That was that then.

She didn't know how long she sat there, mind numb with afterglow and confusion, waiting to hear the sounds of the TARDIS leaving. She waited as her mind tried to catch up to what had just happened. She waited as she tried to understand what could have happened to make him act like this. And she was still waiting while the thoughts in her head arranged themselves, when it flashed into her mind.

The Time Lord Victorious.

It had to be. Her version of the Doctor had told her in brief what had happened. Very brief. _I lost people_, he said. _Hurt people_, he looked guilty. _Hurt myself_. _Ran from my responsibilities. I was broken. And broken until I died, I think. But that's all in the past now._

Only it wasn't yet. Not for her.

She blinked. She hadn't heard the TARDIS leave.

She got up quickly, snatching a white sheet from the floor in favour of finding her clothes, and wrapped it around herself, knotting it roughly. Then she stepped out of the tent and glanced around. Behind that rubble, she was sure. There was nowhere else he could have hidden it.

She started walking. The moonlight, bright on the empty world, lit the halo of curls around her head, and as she picked her way barefoot across the rock-strewn ground, she looked for all the worlds like a goddess in the ruins.

––––

He didn't know how he'd made it back to the TARDIS. He didn't know how he'd made it to the shower. Somehow he'd gotten the water on, and somehow he'd gotten in.

Now he sat, legs up, elbows on his knees, head down, on the shower floor, the small room steamy around him, both showerheads running full blast. His ears were filled with the sound of water around him. His eyes were tight shut, his hands clenched into fists.

His mind was... blank. Dead. He opened his eyes and stared unseeing at the floor. It was as though everything he felt was pouring down the drain with the water. He tried in vain to gather his thoughts together. What came first?

Pride. Pride that made him think that what he had done was right. Pride that told him he was better than others, better than _him_. Pride that told him Adelaide was wrong and that he was a winner, master of his own fate and that of others. Pride that said he could do whatever he wanted, and justify it.

Anger. Anger at himself for coming here in the first place. Anger at the jealously that filled him over something, someone, who wasn't really his. Anger at his lack of control. At his foolishness. Anger at her for letting him do what he'd done. For giving in so easily. Anger because she hadn't stopped him. _Why hadn't she stopped him? _And anger at himself all over again for blaming her.

Lust. Lust that had made him storm into her tent, tear off her clothes. Lust that made his hands grip her flesh, made him want her so badly. Lust that made him take her on the floor like he did.

Fear. Fear that he had gone too far. Fear that he could never stop himself. Fear that he had taken advantage of her, that she hadn't wanted it.

Of all these emotions, it was fear that held sway. Panic rose swiftly in his mind. What if she hadn't really wanted him? What if she was just making the best of the situation? In the dark corners of his mind her soft moans of pleasure turned into whimpers instead. But surely she would have stopped him... surely... He'd been too caught up in his own desires, his own wants. He had though at the time that she wanted it, even needed it. Thought she'd encouraged him, felt her body react at his touch and under his fingers. Hadn't she?

He rocked back and forth, silently screaming as these thoughts poured into his mind, condemning him. All the things he'd done wrong, all the hurt he'd caused... it felt like nothing compared to this.

––––

River stopped in front of the door of the TARDIS. The machine glowed softly. She paused, the stretched out a hand towards the lock, only to have the door spring open as soon as her hand touched it, as though it was waiting for her.

She stepped inside, holding the sheet close around herself. The door swung shut behind her. She glanced around the room. This was... new. Old. Different, certainly. Sort of steampunk. She smiled to herself. It always suited him, no matter how he looked, no matter how it looked.

His clothes were tossed carelessly on the floor. She paused, listening. Water. Running water. Trusting the TARDIS to show her the right room, she stepped into the passageway and selected one at random. The ship did not disappoint her. She opened the door to the steam-filled bathroom, the large shower at the end almost invisible in the haze. Shutting the door behind her, she walked over to the other side of the room. She could barely see him through the glass, huddled on the floor under the pounding water. She let the sheet slip to the floor and pushed the glass door open.

He looked up sharply when he heard the click of the door as it opened. Hadn't he sent the ship into space? He'd staggered through the control room on his way here... He must have hit the controls, surely. But there she stood. Steam curled around her, dampening her hair and skin. She didn't speak. She just sat down in front of him, her grey eyes watching him carefully, as though he was an animal that might bolt at a sudden move. He'd lowered his head again, afraid to meet her eyes. They sat in silence. She waited for him to look up, to do anything. He waited for her to leave.

But she didn't.

Finally, he brought his eyes up to meet hers. He didn't hide, didn't try to mask what he felt. She flinched. His eyes radiated such deep pain and loss that she almost couldn't bear it.

"River..." he tried to force the words out but they caught in his throat, "River, I... Oh gods, River..."

His eyes pleaded with her to understand. _River, I'm so, so sorry..._

"I didn't..." he shut his eyes tightly, "_River..._ I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Gods, River, I couldn't stop, I didn't even try... Please..."

He managed to bring his eyes back to hers.

"_Please..._" he whispered. _Don't hate me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone. _

But she should. How could she stay after what he did? What right did he have to ask that? None. She shouldn't even be here. He didn't deserve to see her again. But right now he thought that maybe seeing her hurt more than never seeing her again ever would have.

Through the haze of anguish, he felt her fingers touch his arm and run down to grip his hand. He looked up again. Grey eyes.

She couldn't bear seeing him like this. What was he thinking? Gods knew she didn't blame him. When he'd shown up at her tent, dark-eyed and angry and... she had known what he needed, even if he hadn't. _And fuck, it had been good._ But she saw that he was trapped in the emotions swirling around his mind, holding him back, tearing him down, keeping him from understanding everything she wanted to tell him... that she loved him, wanted him, had been so happy to see him, felt so sexy when he touched her... fuck she'd loved him taking control like that. And she'd tried to express that to him, but it hadn't gotten through, and she realized... _Oh hell,_ she thought, _he thinks that I don't want him. He thinks he forced me. Wasn't he paying attention at all?_

"Sweetie..."

She moved closed to him, sitting close so that her legs pressed against his. He flinched away, but she held his hand tightly and brought her other hand up to tilt his face towards her. He tried to turn away.

"River, no... I'm not..." His voice broke.

"Sweetie, look at me."

His eyes reluctantly met hers. She stroked his face gently with her thumb, trying to reassure him. She kept her eyes locked with his as she started to speak.

"I love you. Gods, sweetie, I love you so much. Don't you understand that? I love you. All of you. You think I don't know you? Your good sides and your bad? Sweetie, I've spent so much time with you, with so many versions of you, there isn't much I haven't seen. And I always want to see you, always want to be with you. Whatever you need, my love, I'm here. You don't even need to ask. And believe me, if I ever don't want something, I'll tell you. Tonight, sweetie, I wanted you so badly. _Fuck_, I wanted you. I always want you. You're so damn sexy, and the way you were taking control like that... I tried to show you. Don't you understand?"

He let his eyes close. Relief flooded through him, fighting with the fear. He took a deep breath, like a man who'd been drowning and finally found the surface again.

"River..." he said, tentatively.

She leaned in close to him and whispered his name in his ear. He almost sobbed.

"Oh River... I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry, I didn't know... I should have, but I didn't. I didn't even think... Gods, River, I don't deserve you."

The water pounded around them. She moved as close as she could to him, pulling his face towards hers, her lips meeting his, open-mouthed. He relaxed into the kiss with a soft groan, letting her pull him closer, his mouth moving desperately against hers.

"_River._"

He groaned again when she angled her mouth across his and ran her tongue over his lower lip before pulling it into her mouth and sucking, making him gasp. His hand flew to her hair to tangle there in her wet curls.

"Oh gods, River..." he gasped between kisses, "I love you. I love you, River. River. _River...ohhh_"

He moaned as she slid her tongue into his mouth, effectively silencing him. Relief made him feel drunk, everything was sharpened and blurred, and her soft lips moving insistently on his, her tongue slipping between his lips, her fingers brushing up the side of his face to stroke his hair, run down his neck... he could swear nothing had ever felt this good.

She moved her mouth to the corner of his and kissed him lightly there before moving to kiss her way along his jaw and down his throat. He let his head fall back, his mouth open in a quiet gasp, eyes closed. He shivered as her lips and fingers trailed over his skin in the steam. She moved her mouth up close to his ear again, and he could hear her whispering as she ran her fingers through his hair, down his neck.

_I love you. I need you. I want you... _

She drew back, meeting his eyes, smiling softly. He realized that she had moved herself to kneel between his legs, his weight resting on his hands behind him. He leaned back a little to really look at her. She reached her arms up and tilted her head back to let the water run through her hair. Rivulets of water slid down her skin, and her arms stretched up above her head like that pushed her hips back, her chest forward. He leaned back onto his elbows, and his breath hitched as he let his eyes rake over her, drinking in every line, every curve. She lifted her head, smoothing her hair back, and caught him watching, his eyes dark with arousal. She grinned, and let a hand trail down her body before resting it on the inside of his leg.

His eyelids fluttered shut and he twitched as she slid her fingers slowly down the inside of his thigh, arching his back in protest when she paused to trace small circles on his skin.

"River... please... mmmhh," he moaned as she started sliding her hand down again, only to change direction and run her fingers over the sensitive skin by his hipbone.

"Please... please... " he begged, "please... "

She relented and slid her fingers over his skin again slowly before wrapping them around the base of his cock and pumping once. He gasped loudly, pushing his hips into her hand in an effort to find friction. She pumped her hand up and down again, and he collapsed onto his back, his arms reaching up above his head in a half-hearted effort to keep his head from hitting the shower wall. She started to stroke; her fist closed lightly around him, keeping up a steady rhythm as he panted, his back arching up, his hips jerking uncontrollably. He was so far gone that he hardly noticed her shifting her position, hardly felt her hair brushing against his leg. But when he felt her tongue run along his length, he gave a sharp moan, and in spite of himself held still. He gasped when he felt her lips part as she took him in her mouth, and cried out softly when he felt the pressure of her tongue on him, the sharp feeling of her teeth dragging over his skin.

"_River..._"

She started to pump with her hand in time with the movement of her mouth on him.

"River, I can't... oh gods, River, fuck... fuck, I'm so close... I'm gonna... _fuck, fuck..._"

She felt his body begin to tense and froze, keeping him still, stopping him.

"_River, please..._" he begged, hardly breathing.

She gently released him, and he almost cried out. Water from the showerhead struck his skin when her mouth had just been and his hips bucked a little. He tried to calm himself down, half-sitting back up, panting. She give him a sly little smile and placed her arms on either side of his torso leaning in close to whisper in his ear.

"_You're so fucking sexy like this..._" she breathed, trailing her fingers over his chest.

His eyes were wide, staring, dark. His breath came in gasps. He pulled himself up into sitting position against the wall and stretched his hand out to her.

"Come here," he whispered hoarsely.

She took his hand and he pulled her to him so that she straddled him and rested her hands on his shoulders. His hands ran slowly up her thighs, over her hips, her sides, her breasts, until he tangled his fingers in her hair and drew her mouth to his. He kissed her slowly, almost lazily, his tongue sliding along her lower lip and into her mouth as her lips parted. He untangled one hand from her hair and trailed it back down her body until he could slide it between her legs. She hissed appreciatively as he started moving his fingers slickly against her, stroking her, teasing her. Her hips rocked when he slid first one finger into her, then two, his thumb still circling her clit, causing her to moan. His fingers left her and she almost protested but then she felt him take himself in hand and line himself up. He entered her slowly, his cock sliding up into her, stretching her as he pulled her down onto him, breathing out slowly. He held her there for a moment while she shifted so that she could sink fully onto him. Then he began to move gently, rocking against her, his hands on her hips. Her mouth found his again and she kissed him languidly. One of his hands moved up to cup her breast, and she moaned into his mouth as he began to stroke her. He broke the kiss and lowered his head to her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth, his lips sucking, kissing, his tongue running over her wet skin. She gasped, and raised her body a little, giving him better access and allowing him space to thrust up into her shallowly.

It wasn't enough.

He raised her up a little so that he could move, and she followed as he turned them away from the wall and lowered himself onto his back while she knelt, her knees on either side of his waist. She barely settled herself again when he gripped her hips and started to thrust up into her, his cock moving slickly inside her, his hips pounding into her from below. She raised herself up, moving together with him, drawing out his thrusts, until they were both gasping. He shifted a little, changing his angle, and then he was hitting her just right, pushing her quickly towards her high. Heat flowed through her body, and she wavered on the edge as he rocked up into her again, again... she broke, crying out as she came over top of him, clenching around him as he kept pushing into her, until she all but collapsed on top of him as pleasure wracked her body.

The feeling of her coming around him almost broke him as well, and he forgot everything else as he kept moving, following her, slamming into her with long, deep thrusts.

"River, River..." he gasped her name over and over under his breath like a litany as his body began to tense under hers.

She felt him stiffen, and with a few deep, final thrusts, he came hard, pouring into her, jerking her hips down onto him as he rocked against her, his mouth open in a silent scream, his eyes tight shut as waves of pleasure crashed over him.

He clung to her as he caught his breath again, until she rolled off of him to lie on the floor of the shower, the water pattering on her skin. She glanced over at him and grinned. He grinned back, laughing a little, gasping. They got up together shakily, hands on each other's arms. She pulled him in for a quick kiss before turning and stepping fully under one of the showerheads, rinsing herself off. He did the same.

Shutting off the water, opening the door, grabbing towels, drying off... it was all punctuated with smiles, looking down, small laughs... his eyes, lit with happiness, peace, caught hers as he dried his hair and wrapped the towel around his waist. She tucked her towel around herself as well, and half-turned with a smile as he came up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close against him. He reached up with his other hand and moved her damp hair off her neck so that he could place a kiss there.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered softly, "stay here with me."

She turned to snuggle against him, her arm going around his waist.

"Mmmmmmmm," she nuzzled his neck, "I'll stay."

They made it to a bedroom somehow, arms around each other, half-asleep. It was her room. She didn't know how the TARDIS knew these things, but she shed her towel and sank gratefully into the soft, neutral-colored bedding. He followed, stretching out on his back next to her so that she could snuggle up next to his side, his arm around her, holding her close, her arm draped over his chest, her leg hooked over his. She nestled her head into his shoulder, and he chuckled, reaching his other hand up to tuck her curling hair away from his face. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, and then reached down to pull the covers up. Her soft breathing a few minutes later told him she had fallen asleep and he followed, slipping peacefully into the darkness.

–––

They parted reluctantly the next morning outside the TARDIS door. He knew that he had to go, as much as he hated to leave her. Again. But she pulled him close to her, kissing him slowly, sweetly.

"Love you," she whispered, drawing back to smile at him warmly.

"I love _you_, River Song."

He drew her into a tight hug, holding her as close as he could, as tight as he could, before finding her mouth again and kissing her soundly. Pulling back, he smiled down at her, brushing her hair back with his fingers.

One more quick kiss and he was gone. Her Time Lord Victorious.


End file.
